In the Most Obvious of Places
by Shadowswhisper1013
Summary: Quinn would essentially do anything for Santana. Anything. Even if it means going back to Lima to find Finn's Letterman jacket. But she can't stay in Lima. She has college to think about- Yale- where she's trying to find herself. She'll find the stupid thing for Santana (while Santana maybe helps Quinn find herself too) and maybe her new found self will see Santana in a new light.
1. Chapter 1: Nice to See You Again

**An idea I've had since the Quarterback and decided to finally get down. It's a little rough, I just want to see reactions should I continue, or not? Future chapters will be around 5,000 words. Not everything will be canon. Oh, and the rating will change to 'M' later in the story.**

**6:23 p.m. -New Haven**

She's practically naked, pale fingers at work inside a coffee-colored girl when she hears a knock on the door. Nobody comes to visit her, nor should they. She has tutoring sessions, and payment sessions. This is a payment session. But begrudgingly, Quinn snatches her fingers out of the girl and swings around to the door. She flings it open and is surprised (though not as surprised as she should be) when she's met with the conflicted, emotion filled eyes of Santana.

"Where've you been?" Santana demands, though her voice is no louder than a whisper and that unsettles Quinn.

"Here," Quinn's answer is simple and truthful.

"Finn's dead."

"I know."

"You didn't show up to the funeral."

Quinn chances a glance back at the girl on her bed who looks quite frustrated. Quinn's frustrated too.

"Santana, you can't just show up unexpected like this." Quinn huffs, crossing her arms rather defensively. No, she _didn't_ show up to the funeral, but it's not like Finn would want her there anyway. She was completely horrible to him and there is no way to justify showing up like they were good friends.

"You have all the time in the world to _fuck_ people, but you can't come to Lima for two days to see Finn laid to rest!" Santana's voice is still a whisper, and it's unnerving to Quinn that the Latina is not being fiery. She starts hissing in Spanish and Quinn sighs.

"Okay, okay, _bella dama_," Quinn watches Santana's face grow confused and then turn blank when she utters the Spanish words. "You wanna come in and talk?"

Santana rolls her eyes and brushes past Quinn, but Quinn catches her by the waist before she can get all the way in. "San, are you okay?"

"Fine, fine. Wash your hands before you touch me again." Santana mutters and pushes her way out of Quinn's grip. Quinn turns to the girl who's ever so patiently sending her deadly looks, but waiting on the bed none the less. Instead of saying anything to her, Quinn gives her an annoyed look which sends the girl, naked and all flying out the door. Not without murmuring, "I didn't get to cum," as seductively as possible into Quinn's ear.

"_Girls_," Quinn sighs, shaking her head at Santana. "Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em." At that comment, Santana smirks, but quickly goes back to biting her lip. Quinn sifts through her closet and pulls on a shirt and some jeans before plopping on her bed.

Quinn takes a drawn out breath before asking Santana, "Okay, so why are you here?"

"I need you to do something for me."

"What?"

"Find Finn's Letterman jacket for me."

"What do you mean _find_ it? Where did it go?" Quinn's face automatically scrunches up as if she heard something utterly confusing.

"I don't know! That's why I need you to find it!" Santana's fire is back, and Quinn's heart leaps at the familiarity and memories it brings with it.

Quinn sucks in her lips, hits her thigh, and then sighs. "Start from the beginning. Tell me what happened. And why the hell you want his jacket?" She runs her fingers through damp, blonde hair, and leans her elbows on her knees, giving Santana her full attention.

**Please review. It would make me happy! Much love, SW.**


	2. Chapter 2: A Breakfast of Poop Bread

_Okay, I lied. Future chapters will be around 2,000-6,000 words… This chapter was originally around 4,000 but I cut it in half and merged the second half with the third because there's a time jump. Thanks for all the love! Responses to reviews will be at the end of the chapter!_

_Also, I'll try to update once a week and that will normally be on Sundays. This is different, though, because the chapter yesterday was short and I already had this one written._

*********If you're a beta (or know of one. Or just want to read through, let me bounce ideas off of you, or edit), and want to help a girl out, well... you know what to do! PM me!*****

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**7:00 on the dot- New Haven**

Quinn's alarm goes off with the most annoying of songs and she groans. She was supposed to switch the station to a _talking_ one and off of the music one last night but then Santana showed up and fucked up her routine. Quinn sits up and snatches the plug to her alarm clock out of the wall. It's times like this when she's thankful she doesn't have a dorm mate. They would probably kill her for her not so early morning, but still too early "early morning" classes. Actually, she wants to kill herself for taking these "early morning" classes.

"Q, why are you up so late?" A voice chirps. Quinn looks up to see a well groomed, and well rested Santana.

"Why are you here?" She snaps. Santana raises her eyes from her phone and doesn't know whether to be amused or shocked.

"I stayed here last night," she huffs. "When I left, it was only to use the showers- and then find an all-night store and buy a horribly, ugly, Yale sweatshirt and t-shirt for this morning…" Santana looks back down at her phone. It takes Quinn's mind longer than she's willing to admit to actually apply what Santana just said to real life. "Who chose your colors, anyway?"

"Wait- Santana." Quinn stands up and comically looks at the door and then back at Santana. "I'm pretty sure I locked the door after you left."

"Yet it wasn't the biggest inconvenience of the night."

"Santana, what did you-"

"Hey! I fixed it!" Santana protested before Quinn could go completely "she hulk," as Santana likes to call it. 'She hulk, Santana. Really?' Quinn asked the girl when she first said it. 'Yeah, Q, and it's not like your eyes aren't already green.'

"Well thank you for fixing my door… _After_ you broke it." Quinn moves blindly around her tiny dorm with morning grace. "I'm going to shower." Quinn announces.

"Have fun. You might want to work off the rest of that sexual frustration. I know you didn't get to finish last night."

"Shut up!"

"And I'm not one to hurry pleasure, but do hurry back, Q. My train leaves in three hours, and I require ladies to take me to breakfast if I spend the night."

Quinn wants to ask exactly how many times Santana has gotten unmerited breakfast from unsuspecting New York ladies, but she also doesn't want to be the first lady to see what happens if Santana doesn't get breakfast.

She speed walks the short walk to the bathroom and steps into her dressing room and shower. She locks it, sets her clothes down, slips out of her robe and starts the water. As she's waiting for the water to heat up, she stares blankly at her ugly shower shoes and unpainted toes.

When the water is finally to her liking, she steps into the shower and lets the warm water run over her sore body. Physical therapy is getting more intense as she advances and she really needs a massage. Quinn starts pressing her hands into the kinks and knots in her lower back. When she gets out the big one, she moans. She hears a giggle and decides to stop moaning. Instead, she pictures Lima in her head. All the nooks and crannies of the whole town because she needs to find Finn's jacket. If there's one thing about Quinn Fabray, it's that she doesn't start a job only to not finish. She scans her mind of anyone who knew Finn and why anyone would take it. She knows Kurt and Rachel didn't take it because those two love Santana too much to just steal the jacket from her. She doesn't know about the people in the school, though. Santana's grandmother might take the jacket to get at Santana… but none of the teachers would take it from her because… well, it's their job to protect her. Or it _was_ their job. Sue definitely wouldn't take such a petty thing… she'll have to talk to Sue, but that can't be the first person she talks to.

She steps out of the shower after she's washed twice with regular soap and three times with body wash. She massages lotion over her body and finally shimmies into a turquoise dress. Quinn, knowing she's short on time, runs to the sink to brush her teeth and apply makeup.

"How was it?" Santana questions as soon as she steps into the room.

"How was what?"

"For you to be super smart, you sure are slow. I know you took my advice because I heard you moaning. You weren't very quiet." Santana laughs and Quinn feels the blush crawling up her neck. "I saw that girl from last night as I was walking around. She looked pissed."

"It wasn't like that. I was giving myself a back massage." Quinn replies to the first statement of Santana's and immediately the brunette's face grows concerned.

"Is your back still giving you problems? Do you still go to therapy? Are you okay?" Santana questions. Quinn rolls her eyes.

"You said she looked pissed? Yeah, well, she's like that. Her name is Jaqueline. She's French but mixed. That's why she has such pretty hair and eyes."

"I didn't ask for her life history. And you didn't answer my question."

"It was done purposefully." There's a comfortable pause that Santana quickly decides to end.

"Breakfast?" She looks at Quinn hopefully who rolls her eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to fight the grin threatening to break loose.

Quinn grabs her wallet at the foot of her bed and motions for Santana to stand. "Come on. I know this place that has _great_ coffee."

"Ooh, you know me so well."

**8:53- New Haven**

Quinn orders two coffees- venti- one with only sugar and one with caramel, a piece of chocolate cake, and a slice of pumpkin bread. After taking her number from the man behind the counter, she sets off to find whatever table Santana chose to sit at. She finds her friend in a corner booth looking rather annoyed at her phone.

"Someone bothering you?"

"Rach. She thinks I got raped and killed on my way home last night. Only, I didn't go to work yesterday. I moved my hours to today," Santana rambles.

Quinn smirks, toying with a napkin. "You've been spending a lot of time with Rachel…"

"Yeah."

"I can tell. You talk in long winded paragraphs." Quinn giggles when Santana's mouth falls open.

"Take it back! I _do not!_"

"And you pout like her now."

"This is the Santana pout! She pouts like me!" Santana crosses her arms and stares down at her phone to make a point. Quinn raises her eyebrows in amusement and chuckles.

Quinn takes her eyes from Santana's face when her own phone buzzes. "It's Rachel," she informs her companion. "She's checking to see if you're telling the truth or not." Quinn's fingers fly across her phone as she returns her gaze to Santana's fake, nonchalant one.

"What'd she say?"

"She wants to know if you're here."

"And what'd you say?"

"Here." Quinn holds her phone across the table so Santana can read it.

Santana decides to read the text aloud. "_Why would Santana be here? Did you lose her?_" Quinn takes her phone back. "Oh my God- Quinn! Fix it!"

"Why? Scared of your mommy's wrath?"

"If you mean Rachel, yes! You have never had to sit through one of her 'We Live in New York so Safety First' lectures!" Just as Santana finishes the sentence (rather long winded, Quinn might add), S&M by Rihanna blares through her phone speakers. Quinn knows Santana has a timid girl crush and obsession with Rihanna, but S&M as Rachel's ringtone is a little far if she does say so herself.

Quinn can't help but wonder what _her_ ringtone is and files it away in the back of her mind behind the dozens of other 'things to ask Santana later.'

Quinn lets her eyes wander her friend's face and can tell by the worry lines that Santana is getting a good scolding. As Santana's getting fussed out, the cashier sets their coffee and pastries on the table.

"Thanks," Quinn murmurs, taking the caramel coffee and pumpkin bread for herself and pushing the sugar only coffee and chocolate cake over to the other girl.

"Okay, Okay- I'm _sorry_ Rach. I'll text you on the train. My coffee just got here. Have a good class… Okay, bye!" Santana grins sheepishly at Quinn. "I don't know how you can eat pumpkin bread, Q. It's gross." But even as she says it, Santana breaks off merely half of the pumpkin bread and puts it on her own plate.

Quinn smirks into her coffee. "Good morning."

"Hi," Santana grins. She knows Quinn only says good morning after she's had a sip of coffee. 'It's not a good one 'till you do,' the blonde said once. "Thanks for my coffee and cake… and half of your poop bread."

Quinn simply shakes her head and sways a little to the music. This is her favorite place to come. They always serve fresh coffee and pastries and have the best jazz. If Quinn was being completely honest, when she comes to live jazz night, the jazz singers really turn her on. It's also her favorite place to study and the people who work there really like her. Sometimes they give her free things just for being her.

She starts thinking over her lazy morning with Santana and she notices Santana looking at her.

"What?" Quinn demands, pushing a small forkful of bread into her mouth.

"Don't you have a class right now?"

"Yeah, sociology 101. It's my favorite."

"Why aren't you there?"

"You wanted breakfast and I'm a fabulous friend." Quinn sighs. "And I haven't decided how to deal with Jaqueline," she mutters.

Santana coughs and laughs. "Easy, Q. Fuck her secretly but in a public place. She'll forgive you."

"She's not my _girlfriend,_ Santana."

"Denial's not just a river in Egypt, Quinn. And if you did, we could go on double dates. Dani- have you met Dani? Well, she'd love to meet my best friend's girlfriend. And Dani and I went to this amazing lesbian bar that was absolutely- shit!"

"It was absolutely shit? Santana. I don't want to go to a shit bar," Quinn says even though she knows Santana cut herself off because she was being longwinded again. "I told you," Quinn sings. "Rachel's rubbing off on you."

"Shut up."

**9:51- New Haven**

Quinn picks at her plain, blue phone case absentmindedly and leans on Santana's shoulder. "I'm glad you're going home."

"Why?" Santana sounded utterly offended.

Quinn nudges her. "You're a lotta work for one lady. I hope Dani knows what she's in for."

"Me too."

"Face time me sometime later this week. I need to know when we can go to Lima and how I should start this investigation."

There's a comfortable silence that Santana breaks. "Are you gonna wear a fedora and trench coat?"

"No, why?"

"That'd be hot."

"Santana!" Quinn gasps, but she chuckles anyway. "Just know that the only reason I'm doing this is because you're my best frienemy. I can't have you moping and crying all the damn time."

"How do you know that I moped and cried when it happened?"

"Kurt." - "He was wondering if it was normal for bitches to break down like that."

Santana looked at her. "And...?"

"I told him yes."

"Of course." Santana checks the time. "I have to go now, Quinnie. Don't cry." Santana teases. Quinn rolls her eyes for what seems like the umpteenth time this trip.

She stands when Santana stands and pulls her into a hug. "Don't get into any trouble. I won't be able to help since I'm already doing this damn jacket hunt."

"I won't make any promises. Love ya, Q. Thanks again."

Quinn shakes her head as she watches the Latina retreat. She's about to leave when Santana turns around and yells "Get the girl!" Then she winks and blows Quinn a kiss.

"Goodness," Quinn grumbles, rolling her eyes again. "What have I gotten myself into?" But she figures it's not her fault she has a completely insane best friend.

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_Seriously, guys, thanks for the love. I never thought I'd get this many follows/favs/reviews just from a half-attempt at chapter one!_

**Shananigan- **_thanks for telling me my summary is awesome. It took me a couple attempts to find one that does the "atmosphere" of the story justice. I'm glad the characters are... characterized appropriately. Forgive me in advance if they stray a lil bit in the future. :P I'm looking forward to see what I'll do with it too!_

**Lurvedolphins- **_Aw! The first sentence! I thought it was a little risky because it could have come off as... idk weird. And yeah, I could go on forever about overused reactions/ things that happen in quintana fics. (But I might use some myself, so I'll save the rant for later). Thanks for my points- unless those points were for Q because yes, Quinn does deserve points! And yes, Quinn will drop everything, including a hot foreign girl for Santana. I can't wait to see how this blossoms either... bear with me lol._

**BigTimeGleek & Arly510- **_Thanks. I'm never really good with beginnings... so it's good to know I succeeded._

**Silent12reader- **_I hope you do love it! And I like that about Q too. There so many stories where San has done something wrong or has to drop everything... Thought I'd change it up a bit._

**And to both of my guest reviewers, thanks for taking the time to review.**

_Reviews, favs, and follows really make my day! Much love! SW_


	3. Chapter 3: From Blonde to Blue and Back

_Thank you so much for all the love!_

_Happy Sunday you wonderful people! I hope you enjoy!_

_All mistakes are mine. I tried to proofread but I know I didn't catch everything._

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**9:00 p.m. on the dot- New York**

Santana clicks the TV off and turns to face her girlfriend. "I'm digging the blue, babe," she licks her lips and leans closer to Dani. "It just screams 'I'm in a fucking band and better than all of you.'" She closes the gap between them to peck Dani's upturned lips.

"Thanks. I'm glad you like it," she giggles. Santana mentally rolls her eyes because had someone told her in high school she'd be dating a girl who _giggles_ but is totally kick ass at the same time, she probably would have destroyed them.

"Are you feeling better?" Santana asks because, she's a good girlfriend and actually listens to Dani when she talks… Most of the time, anyway.

"No. I'm still feeling nauseous all the time and I can't eat anything that smells and my head hurts."

The rational part of Santana wants to jet backwards and go shower and brush her teeth just in case Dani has something contagious, but the irrational side of her acts first. "It's kind of early, still, but do you want to go to bed?"

"That'd be nice," Dani graces her with a little smile. "I'll just go pee first. I'll meet you in your room."

"Okay…" Her plans were to wait up for Quinn (who according to her rough internal calculations should be arriving at 1:40-42ish), but she can always get up after Dani falls asleep. Plus, Rachel and Kurt would be getting home around midnight so they will still be doing their beauty routine once Quinn gets to the apartment. And it's not like Quinn would miss her presence.

Santana goes to her room, which is just an area that's cut off with tall furniture and curtains, so she can at least change into something more comfortable. She crawls into bed and closes her eyes as soon as her head hits the pillow. She _does_ need the sleep. It takes almost ten hours to get to Lima and she's planing on driving. Santana hears Dani moving around in drawers and things before the bed dips beside her.

"Goodnight, babe," Dani grumbles.

"Night."

**3:02 a.m.- New York**

Santana dreams of nothing really. She knows she doesn't hear Quinn come in, though, and something in her subconscious begs her to wake up, but she can't do it. She feels Dani slip out of her bed and mutter something about being right back, and then she's right back.

Once Dani comes back, Santana does dream. Of falling and there being no one there to catch her.

**12:13 p.m.- New York**

When Santana finally awakens, it's with a jolt and she's cuddling her girlfriend as the big spoon. She appreciates being the small spoon more, but it's not like she made the decision to cuddle backwards. She's clutching Dani tightly to her and her heart is pounding. If anything, her dream reinforced the fact that she hates heights.

She presses her face into the pale, sports bra clad shoulder in order to calm herself. When she pulls away, her vision is filled only with the shoulder and blonde hair, Santana loosens her grip on Dani and lets her fingers dance over the woman's stomach. She feels a few scars and some ragged skin that she swears wasn't there before.

"Santana," the voice beside her growls and- it's not Dani's. "Santana what the fuck are you doing? I'm trying to sleep."

"Quinn?" Santana sits causing half of the blanket to fall off of Quinn revealing to Santana smooth legs and black underwear that have _eat me_ written in pink across the bottom.

"God damn it, Santana!" Quinn sits up suddenly and turns to face Santana. "I'm trying to fucking sleep…" The girl continues talking, but Santana doesn't hear it. Instead, her eyes travel to Quinn's tight stomach.

"Are those stretch marks?" She asks. Maybe if she was fully awake, she wouldn't have asked, but just woke up Santana is a bit like a child. "And your C-section scar?" Her hand automatically moves closer to trace it, but Quinn catches the hand before she has a chance to touch the creamy skin.

"Santana," Quinn (the scary one) seethes. She's completely terrifying and Santana is rightly terrified.

"Never mind." Santana's hand goes limp in Quinn's grip and she looks away.

"Don't bring that up- don't bring her up ever again. Especially not in New York. Especially not early in the morning," Quinn tightens her grip on Santana's wrist before dropping it completely. Her hand falls right on Quinn's upper thigh and she wonders what Quinn looks like naked. Out in the light, laying sprawled out on a bed being _proud_ of the way she looks. Santana also wonders how exactly she brought up Beth. She's pretty sure she didn't but she does feel bad for doing whatever she did to make the she hulk appear.

"I'm sorry," Santana breathes and this time, she really is. She and Quinn are in a good place and the last thing Santana needs to do is fuck that up by talking about Beth.

Santana draws her hand back and finally makes eye contact with Quinn who looks exhausted. "Sorry…" She grumbles again. Quinn's eyes narrow and she falls back onto the pillow.

"Whatever. Just let me sleep," Quinn demands. She turns so she's facing Santana's side of the bed. Santana pulls the cover over her blonde friend and herself before lying back down.

Her eyes are level with Quinn's closed ones when she asks, "Do you know what happened to Dani?" She resists the urge to gasp when Quinn's eyes fly open in a possessed manner.

Quinn huffs, tears the covers off, and stomps out of the room. Santana shoots after her.

"Quinn! Q, sorry! Go back to sleep! What time did you get here last night? You can still sleep. It's only… 12:30ish."

"I got here at 1:40, slept in Rachel's bed till she literally kicked me off of it, tried the couch until around 3, but my back ached and I saw a girl leave your room to run to the bathroom, throw up, and leave, so I came in your bed, and get woken up to you _feeling_ my ugly stomach for stretch marks and then questioned about where the hell your girlfriend went!" Quinn yelled. "News flash, Santana. I'm not your fucking girlfriend's keeper!" The loft gets silent except for the shushing that either Kurt or Rachel giggle to each other.

"Q," _calm the fuck down_ is what Santana wants to say, but it wouldn't be the best idea.

"Get me some fucking coffee," Quinn growls, stomping over to her suitcase. Santana turns the coffee machine on as Quinn puts on some clothes. "You can come out, now," the blonde says, still with some edge in her tone, and flops on the couch. Kurt's curtain ruffles and he emerges with Rachel behind him.

"Sorry I kicked you, Quinn. It's not my best sleeping habit."

To Santana's complete surprise, Quinn smiles. "It's cool, Rach."

"Dani's hair is blue, now," Kurt whispers to Santana as he walks by. Santana snatches the caramel creamer and caramel out of the fridge.

"Nobody asked you, Rudolph," Santana snaps in response. Kurt gasps and his hands fly to his nose.

"Rachel said it wasn't that bad- be honest with me Santana. Is it bad?"

"No. But are you sure there's a nose under your pimple?"

"Santana!" Kurt screeches to which Santana replies by sticking out her tongue.

Santana sips the coffee she made for Quinn and adds a spoonful of caramel before purring, "Perfect." She waltzes over to where Quinn and Rachel sit on the couch. "I'm sorry for bothering you this morning, Miss Fabray, so please do accept my apology," she bows a little, acting the part of a southern belle to match her accent.

"Santana, I told you to make me coffee. You didn't do it out of the goodness of your heart." Quinn pauses and sips the scalding liquid. Santana's heart finally starts beating properly when Quinn's pink lips form a delicate smile. "But thanks, _bella dama._"

Santana returned to her room and checked her phone- nothing from Dani. Then she sent Quinn a text knowing the girl wouldn't get it until she took her phone of the charger right before they walk out of the door for Lima.

**6:30 p.m.- New York**

Quinn does one last, systematical mental check of everything before she hopped in the passenger's seat of Santana's black Lexus. She pulls her seatbelt on, closes her eyes, and hears Santana start the car.

"What are you doing?" Santana asks her. Quinn, without ever opening her eyes, answers,

"Praying."

"For what?"

"That you won't crash." Quinn sighs when she hears Santana chuckle.

"What do you want me to do? Hold your hand?"

"Yes. Give me your hand." Quinn demands, grabbing Santana's right hand between both of hers. "Don't speed, don't get distracted. Don't text- actually. Give me your phone." Quinn reaches for the phone in Santana's lap, but Santana slaps it before she can grab hold of the phone.

"Hey! Quinn- _what-"_ Santana scolds. Quinn huffs and squeezes Santana's hand tighter."Would you like to drive?"

"No."

"Then stop telling me how to drive! I know how to do it and if I recall correctly, I'm not the one who crashed."

Quinn snatched one hand away and hit it on the dash. "Santana. Please try to be safe!"

"You're safe with me," Santana promises. With that out of the way, Quinn pulls out her own phone and unlocks it for the first time that day. She checks her texts first.

_Jaqueline_

_ Quinn when r u getting back n town –J_

_Come on. U cant stay mad at me –J_

_ I apologized already- J_

_Sean_

_ Hey! U were supposed 2 help me study this week!_

_ Guessing I should cancel… :/_

_Rachel_

_ I will find out about that boyfriend you "don't have" ;)- R_

_Santana_

_ You're beautiful, Q. All of you. Right down to your stretch marks and c-section scar… it's shaped like a star btw -* see? That's a star._

Quinn rolls her eyes at the first three, shoots an apology to Sean, chuckles at Rachel's and then glances at Santana out of the corner of her eye. True to her word, Santana is completely focused on the road and getting them out of the city safely.

"I told them to make it a star because I don't plan to ever have another one and I guess Beth is my star." Quinn reveals. "Or maybe, I proved to myself that I'm the star." Santana glances at her but says nothing, something Quinn is happy for. "But thanks," Quinn murmurs. "I guess you can be sweet when you're not being a bitch."

She feels her throat tightening, so she clears it and wills the tears in her eyes to go away. She doesn't know why she's about to cry.

"Can you- can you turn on the radio?" Quinn squeaks. She stares straight ahead and sees Santana move from the corner of her eye.

"Find a station." And for a while, they ride without talking with the radio humming softly in the background.

Quinn prefers air travel- the safest of all travel, but ever since her father left, Judy has become more money cautious. Not because Russell made a huge impact to the Fabray income, no, her mother was the primary bread winner and worked closely with Santana's mother. That's how she and Santana first met and they hated each other.

She gazes out the window at nothing in particular, the city long behind them, and dozes off.

**4:07 a.m.- Lima, Ohio**

"Quinn, get up. We're here."

"I thought we were stopping half way there."

"Nope. C'mon. We've got a room. I hope you don't mind sharing a bed. I tried really hard to get us-"

"Course not, Rachel." Quinn gets out of the car and closes the door. "Ah, nice hotel. Couldn't find anything else?" She questions sarcastically.

"My bad, Q. It's the only non shitty hotel in Lima." – "And stop comparing me to the hobbit!"

"I guess it won't be the first time we shared a bed in this hotel. I appreciate the sense of nostalgia it brings me."

Santana let out a snort. "Come on. I'm shit tired."

"You should be. You drove for like _ten hours."_

Quinn links her hand with Santana's to make sure she gets into the hotel. The receptionist gives them two keys and an odd look directed at Santana. Quinn glares at the woman and drags Santana and their luggage over to the elevator.

"You always smell good, Quinn."

Quinn's stomach does a weird flip and she squeezes Santana's hand. "I think it's something in the air at this place…" She says under her breath.

"No, Quinn. It's you."

"Okay, you need some sleep." The elevator doors open and Quinn drags Santana to their room. She slides the key in and throws the duffel bags into the bathroom so she can guide Santana to the bed.

"Quinn. Something's wrong with Dani. Is she sick?"

Quinn doesn't answer because Santana isn't really listening right now. The girl is exhausted and completely worn out.

"Quiiiin. Answer me!"

"No, she's not sick, San. She's…" She trails off and tugs at Santana's boots.

"She's what?" Santana's words become slurred.

_Dani's keeping secrets._ But Quinn doesn't say it. It's not her place. "Nothing, S. Can you sit up for me?"

"Mhm," Santana sighs, leaning on her elbows. Quinn huffs but works with the room she's given. She slides Santana's too tight shirt over her head and folds it before snatching off the girl's black shorts (when Quinn inquired why the girl was wearing stockings under her shorts, she replied "because it's spring and it's an acceptable cross between winter and summer wear). Quinn turns around to set it on the table in the corner since she's a neat freak and Santana is not. She turns back to Santana and is met with the most delicious sight. Santana laying on her back, hair splayed out around her like a raven halo, a magenta laced bra smothering bronze breasts that rise and fall in rhythm with Santana's breaths. Her black tinted stockings cover a sorry blue string that leave little to the imagination.

Quinn looks away from Santana. "_Fuck._" There's definitely something in the air at this hotel.

"Stockings." Santana orders, sticking a leg in the air. It causes Quinn to curse again. Instead of taking off Santana's stockings, she drags the bags out of the bathroom and rummages around Santana's for some pajamas. She tosses the shirt and it lands on Santana's stomach.

"Put your shirt on. I'll be back." Quinn grumbles and heads to the bathroom.

She figures the only reason she reacted like that is because it's been so damn long. Almost two months to be exact. And maybe she's been acting a little too close to Santana during those two months. And avoiding Jaqueline and her professor. Santana thinks she's completely lesbian… Quinn hasn't really thought about is and doesn't want to put labels on it at the moment.

Quinn thinks of the text Santana sent her and how sweet the girl can be but it only reminds her of that morning when Santana's fingers were dancing over her stomach. If Quinn was being completely truthful about this morning, she'd admit that she let Santana trace her scars at first... but it's not like she could have done to stop the distressed Latina.

"Quinn!"

Quinn shakes her head and exists the bathroom to find Santana with her penguin pajamas on and curled up with her eyes barely open. "Come on, Quinn."

"Santana, it's morning."

"You're not going back to sleep, are you?" Santana questions, words becoming more slurred with every syllable. Santana lets out a long yawn. "I didn't realize how... how tired I was until I fell on the bed," Santana informs. Quinn pulls the covers over Santana and brushes some hair out of the girl's face.

"I'm going swimming downstairs."

"Kay, goodbye. We'll talk…" she slurs. "Talk… talk later."

Quinn catches herself mid giggle. "Sleep tight, San."

She finds the pool without much of a problem and immediately starts to swim laps. She used to swim all the time but then cheerleading started.

Quinn likes to swim because she doesn't think about anything. Just what lap she's on and when she needs to breathe next. It's a pattern and patterns are very therapeutic… at least for Quinn. Sometimes her physical therapist lets her do a day of water aerobics and it is Quinn's favorite.

She does laps until her skin is completely pruned, her muscles ache, and her lungs burn. She puts a towel around her neck after she dries off, pulls on some shorts, and heads to the workout room. Quinn hops on the cycle and cycles in time with the song in her head.

**1:15 p.m.- Lima, Ohio**

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Santana questions just as Quinn reaches for the door handle.

Quinn retracts her hand and glances over at Santana's question. "Alive."

Santana shoots her a look. "I know _that_. But what do you want to do? Career wise?"

"I haven't thought about it much," Quinn responds. "That's a lie. I think about it all the time…" She looks over at Santana who's nervously playing with a gum wrapper. "I don't know. Maybe work with kids… Either that or do something where I never see kids except for my own."

"I thought," Santana breathes. "That you didn't want to have any more kids."

"I don't want to be pregnant again, but I would like to adopt." Quinn knows the big talk is coming soon. The one about her sexuality and this is maybe a way for Santana to prod the idea and warn Quinn that it's coming.

"Adopting sounds good," Santana says. "But if I ever adopted, it would be someone from the United States because, we have so many unwanted children here and sorry, I'm being like Rachel again."

Quinn chuckles.

"And marriage? You plan on getting married?"

"I'll consider it. Only if I find the right person." Quinn sees Santana looking at her with curiosity.

"What?"

"You should study people, I think. You said sociology is you favorite class. Learn about the discrimination of groups of people."

"I should?" Quinn glances at the time. "Okay, San. Wish me luck."

"Have fun." Santana grumbles. "Text me when you're finished. I'll be around the corner." Quinn waves and exits the car.

Quinn has been to Alma's house many times with Santana. Never alone. The house looks welcoming and homey on the outside- a big difference from the outside of her house. She approaches the door timidly and knocks. She hears rustling on the inside and a raspy voice shout, "Uno momento!" The door flies open and Quinn is met with the fierce eyes of Santana's grandmother. The woman smiles at first.

"_Quinna_! Are you here with Sa-" Quinn finds it interesting when Alma's face goes from overjoyed, to sad, to disgusted, to worried. "She's dead, isn't she? She's gone and got herself shot in the big city. Ay, mi nene."

"No, Santana's still alive." Quinn is quick to reassure the woman. She refrains from asking, 'if you miss her so much, why don't you call her and apologize?' "But I _am_ here about her."

"What? She has that AIDS disease, doesn't she? Or cancer. Something as bad, right? You're here to ask me to go and talk to her. Well I won't. Not after she humiliated me like she did." Alma shakes her head. Quinn doesn't know how to feel about the woman. She's never been entirely fair when things involved Santana but Quinn doesn't know how Santana humiliated her. It's the other way around. "Oh, come in _Quinna_." Alma steps aside so Quinn can step into the house. "How have you been? Is Yale treating you kind?"

"Yale is very good… Challenging, but good. And I'm okay. How are you?"

"Old. Too old for small talk. Come, come to the kitchen. I'm working on dinner, but I can whip something up for you." Alma glances at her. "You're too skinny. Just like Santana."

Quinn looks down at herself and shakes her head a bit. She's _not_ too skinny. She takes the food anyway, even though she's not very hungry. Alma is a fabulous cook but she always has to tone down the spice for Quinn.

"I haven't seen your mother at church lately." Alma attempts to start conversation.

"I need to check on her more often," Quinn admits. "I know she's lonely in that big house."

"I would be too. But _mi hija_ visits her often. I think she's rather lonely too."

Quinn doesn't question about Santana's parents' marriage. She knows it's been rocky ever since their senior year. "Oh…" Quinn murmurs. "That's good." It's never been this awkward around Alma, but then again, she always had Santana with her as a buffer (and translator).

"_Quinna_, tell me why exactly you are here." The older woman demands, setting a plate of food in front of Quinn.

"I- um… Finn died."

"I know about that. Are you just going to tell me things I already know?"

"Santana was very upset by it. She came back here for the funeral… Kurt- Finn's brother-" Quinn cuts herself off from shock at the distaste on Alma's face but quickly continues. "He gave Santana Finn's jacket. Somebody stole it."

"You think I did it?"

"No- I-" Quinn starts to elaborate, but Alma slams her hands on the counter and turns around to face Quinn.

"I may not approve of the sins my granddaughter takes part of and accepts, but I would never steal from her. You can't make a sin right by practicing another sin. And the way I see it, _Quinna_, is that you have no right to come into my house and accuse me of such a thing. How do I know it wasn't you? You always were trying to one up my Santana."

"No. I- I wasn't accusing you." Quinn all but whispers. What Alma said about trying to one-up Santana actually stung. "I was wondering if you knew of anything that could help me get it back for her." Quinn sits perfectly straight, hands folded politely in her lap, just like a Fabray. "I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise." Though intimidated, Quinn doesn't flinch under Alma's harsh gaze.

"You've been spending time with her. You _smell_ like her." Alma pauses. "I-I'm sorry for snapping. I just do not like to be reminded of her."

Quinn nods once. "Well, I'm sorry for intruding." She stands. Alma shoves two plates of food into her hands.

"Take it to her. If she's not dead, I don't want her to die from starvation." – "And _Quinna."_

"Yes, _senora?_"

"I still love her."

Quinn sends Santana a simple text and shows herself out of the house so she can wait for the girl with only her thoughts.

She's happy Alma still loves Santana, but for some reason it pisses Quinn off.

.

Santana sits beside the lake, picking at the weeds surrounding it. She wishes to see her _abuela_, but she knows the woman doesn't want to see her. She used to come to this lake with her grandmother- back when the woman still loved her. Now she just comes for the memories that pierce her heart but warm it all at the same time.

She hates Lima. Hates it with a passion and it's during these quiet, alone times when it really sets in. Lima does have good memories, but they are always outweighed by the multitude of bad ones. Like being outed to the whole town and being forced to deal with it before she was ready. That one really stung. And what she doesn't understand is why she wants Finn's jacket back so badly if it's his fault she was outed. She's always a bitch and Finn needed to suck it up and deal with it. Because of that outing incident, she slowly started to fall out of love with Brittany... if she was ever in love in the first place. Even if she wanted to stay together, Brittany will be an eternal reminder of something Santana wishes to forget about completely. (Maybe not completely, but she doesn't want to be outed every other night and then stoned to death by her_ abuela_ in a dream).

Needless to say, Santana does want that jacket. Maybe it's in a sick way- so that every time she sees it she knows she got the better out of life. She's in New York living with his almost wife and brother while he's dead. Or maybe she just loved him and didn't- still doesn't- know it. That, or she's a little happy with him for freeing her just a little bit. It's most likely a mixture of all three.

She hugs her knees to her chest, something she does often and is often made fun of by her roommates for doing, but since she's in Lima she thinks of the summer where she got a "boob job." She didn't- honestly- but everyone else just thinks that. "_Santanita_, you'll be alright," her _abuela_ told her. "You didn't think your breasts were done growing by junior year." Yes. She did. She'd been the same bra size since freshman year and all of a sudden she needs a bigger size. But Santana stuck with the boob job rumor because it's not like anyone would believe her. And she got hell for it- for being a teenager and "finishing puberty the right way" as her mother said, winking at her. She got demoted to the bottom of the pyramid, harassed, teased, and leered at... They're still not even that big!

"Fuck Lima and all the memories," Santana grumbles, gazing at the other side of the lake. She then gets a bright idea and travels to the other side. Just as she finds the thing she was looking for, her phone beeps with a message from Quinn.

_I'm ready -Q_

_._

Quinn slides into the car with a grinning Santana. "Oh, God. Who did you see?" Quinn's tone is pleading and exasperated like she's worried Santana was doing something that would embarrass them both.

"Nobody. But I did get something for you," Santana replies. Quinn, seeing the devilish look in her friend's eye, narrows hers. She sets the plates of food down before questioning,

"What is it?" Quinn buckles her seatbelt and Santana pulls around the block so they're just out of view of Alma's house.

"Well, I went to the lake, and here!" Santana drops something in her lap.

Quinn squeals and throws the slimy thing back at Santana. "Santana!" Her voice is still a couple octaves higher than it ought to be and Santana rolls down the window to toss it out.

"Chill, Lucy. It's just a frog. And a dead one at that."

"I don't like creatures."

"It's not a creature! It's an amphibian."

Quinn rolls her eyes and rummages around the glove department. When she finds the hand sanitizer, she holds it up in triumph.

"Hold out your hands," Quinn demands, turning the hand sanitizer upside down. Santana shakes her head.

"You might want to wait until you see this."

"What is it?"

"Just something I dug up."

"Santana, I swear to Go-" Santana cuts her off by holding up a box. "What's that?"

"Remember that summer our mom's made us write letters to college us? And then we painted this box and buried it?" Santana questions. Quinn nods. "Well, you're in college and I _was_ so I thought why not. Plus, once you find this jacket, I'm never coming back here." - "Ever."

Quinn takes the box from the excited girl and puts it under her feet.

"Let's do that later. Here- use the hand sanitizer." Quinn orders. "Would you like to hear about my visit?"

"No, not really, but I guess you're going to tell me."

Santana listens politely until Quinn is finished reciting what happened at her grandmother's house.

"Okay. She didn't take it. Then who did?"

Quinn gives her an agitated look. "We're going to the school tomorrow."

"To what school?" Santana scoffs. "Not McKinley." Santana parks the car and crosses her arms in a childlike manner. Quinn sighs, opening the door.

_"Fucking brat," _Quinn slams the door but not before she hears the starts of Santana's objections.

* * *

**Shananigan-** _I'll hold you to your promise of staying with me! Their friendship is really fun to write for me! I'm glad you enjoy the way I portray it._

**Silent12reader-** _Yeah, San's with Dani. But don't think of them against Quinntana… Think of it as a stepping stone. And well… who knows when the quinntana quinntana chapters will happen (I do, but I'm gonna keep you in suspence)._

**Alexismiau1690-** _Is Quinn completely open with a girl? Only time will tell. I do try to keep some of the characters' badassness, but at the same time I want to show them growing up. But I promise the badassness is in full effect._

**Lurvedolphins- **_Thank you! And yes, Dani! It's mostly 'cause I love love love love love Demi! She's amazing. Lol! I'm glad you approve._

**ErosEternalGlee-** _Thanks. I like to say "Kiss (keep it simple, stupid) and you won't have to explain" so I gotta keep it simple._

**To all the Guest Reviewers, thanks for taking the time to review.**

_Reviews really make my day! Much love! SW_


	4. Chapter 4: Pill and Mascara Bottles

_It's been too long, I know. I'm embarrassed, really. I do have a bunch of excuses piled up, but I'm sure you just want to read the story. I tried to make this chapter a little happier but still a way to forecast and provide an opening for the problems looming in the distance. (Afterall, you guys do want some Quinntana loving before you get wrinkles, right?) The next one or two chapters after this one are heavy so be warned!_

_Oh, and thanks for all the love! It makes my life a little sweeter._

_Happy Sunday!_

* * *

**7:46 a.m.- Lima, Ohio**

Santana jumps out of bed as soon as she hears Quinn call her name from the bathroom.

"_Santana_! This is like my fifty-millionth time calling you!"

"What, Quinn?" Santana puts her ear to the bathroom door. "No, you can't use my vibrator," she says. Quinn huffs.

"Are you going to help me or not?"

Santana smirks. "I think you can get the job done yourself. Just use more fingers."

"Oh my God! Santana!"

She can just picture the look on Quinn's face and it makes her laugh. "Okay, Okay. I'm sorry. What do you need?"

"A _tampon._"

Santana, still as immature as she was in the sixth grade, scrunches up her nose. "Ew. You're on your period? Are you gonna be moody now?" She jumps away from the door when something crashes against it.

"SANTANA!" Quinn roars. Santana, scurries to her suitcase and pulls out a tampon and panty liner for Quinn. She then runs back to the bathroom and opens the door (because she knows Quinn didn't lock it).

She's met with the sight of Quinn on the toilet- dress bunched up around her waist- and bent over so her hair is tickling the floor. Quinn groans.

"And some pain-killers please." She runs her words together in a big moan. Santana hands Quinn the necessities when she sits up and then exits the bathroom to get Quinn some kind of pain killer. She doesn't have any, so she tears up Quinn's purse and suitcase to find them.

Under the many, many thongs and shoes, Santana finds at least six different pill bottles. She grabs the ibuprofen and takes it to Quinn.

When she gets back to the bathroom, Quinn is washing her hands. Santana sets the pill bottle on the sink next to her mess of face products... So what she picked up a beauty routine or two from the twins in New York? Her side of the sink is horrendously messy and the direct opposite of Quinn's side.

"What's with all those pills?" Santana demands. It concerns her that Quinn has as many pill bottles as she does mascara. Quinn glances at her through the mirror.

"Um... nothing. You know I have back pain."

"And the other two hundred bottles?"

Quinn turns the water off and dries her hands. "Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to."

**11:27 a.m. Lima, Ohio**

Santana stops Quinn before she can leave the hotel room. "Q, are you r-"

Quinn holds up a hand to cut her off. "I _am_ really okay. Quit asking about the damn pills."

"Okay, one, I know you're on your period and everything, but that doesn't give you an excuse to be a mega bitch. And two, I wasn't even going to ask that because I don't give a shit about the pills. I was going to ask if you were ready to open the box?" Santana rambles, putting on her best glare afterwards. "But I don't even want to anymore." She states and turns away from Quinn.

She doesn't look over when Quinn comes to stand beside her.

"I'm going to Puck's house today," Quinn reveals.

Santana examines her nails, picking at the black nail polish. "What time? I have some places to go."

"Like where?" Quinn leans into Santana but she stays stiff as a board. Quinn will have to apologize for snapping at her this time. She won't let the blonde off the hook this easily.

"Just-" Santana pauses, getting frustrated with herself and all of Quinn's organization around her. It's ridiculous. "What time?" she demands, stepping away from Quinn to remove all contact with smooth skin.

"Don't know. I'll figure it out. Clean your side of the sink before I get back."

"Where are you going?" Santana asks. When Quinn laughs she looks at her. Her eyes follow Quinn's shape in her one-piece bathing suit. "Oh, swimming. We need to buy you a yellow bikini."

"Yellow?" Quinn rolls her eyes and pushes Santana down on the bed. When the door clicks behind Quinn, Santana flops her body on the bed and imagines Quinn in said bikini even though she's still mad at the blonde.

**2:16 p.m. - Lima, Ohio**

Quinn never did feel welcome in Puck's house. His mother was so stern and _rude._ Especially when she was pregnant. But Puck assured her that his mother was out for the week on some business trip.

Quinn sits on a chair by herself, stiff as a board. Puck and Santana share the loveseat, the later draped all over Puck.

It annoys Quinn in ways it shouldn't. _"Santana,"_ she scolds. She knows she sounds like somebody's mother- a comment she's sure either one of the two sitting across from her would make if she wasn't actually a mother. "He hasn't been questioned yet."

"He didn't do it. I already know. _I_ questioned him," Santana responds, shifting in the seat. Quinn can only observe the two move with each other as if they were a married couple. They shift and change until Santana's sitting upright and Puck's head is in her lap. "I'm glad you shaved this shit off."

Quinn huffs. "See, I knew I shouldn't bring you."

"Santana, listen to your mother," Puck teases. Santana slaps his chest.

"Don't say things like that. She doesn't like it."

"_She_ is right here," Quinn says sharply enough that both Puck and Santana look at her in shock. Then Santana rolls her eyes.

"Quinn's just upset that she didn't get any sleep last night."

"You kept moving!"

"I was having a bad dream." Santana crosses her arms. Puck then moves his attention away from Quinn and back to Santana.

"Speaking of nightmares," Puck starts. "When is your next commercial airing?"

Quinn glances at Santana with question while the brunette's cheeks grow a little rosy.

"You're not supposed to talk about it," Santana hisses, hitting Puck's cheek lightly.

"What commercial?" Quinn asks.

"Nothing!" Santana quickly says over the beginning of Puck's sentence. The girl then flies up the stairs leaving Puck and Quinn alone.

"Have you seen Beth recently?" Quinn asks, looking down at her nails.

"No," he responds. "Why didn't you come home for the funeral?"

Quinn takes a while to decide what her best answer should be. If it was anyone else, she would have said "I didn't like him," or "I'm sure he hated me," but this is Puck. Finn's best friend. So she settles with, "I don't know," which ought to appease him.

"You know."

"I guess you have spent enough time around me to see through my bullshit." Quinn sighs and her phone buzzes in her pocket. She pulls it out and her eyes scan a text from Rachel saying how Santana needs to call her right now because she has some life-altering information.

"Have _you_ seen Beth?"

"No." Quinn says sharply. "Shelby doesn't like me."

On that sour note, Santana swings back into the room- an angry blur.

"I am _not,"_ Santana starts. "A middle aged mother of two who has had on and off yeast infections for years and you do not know because we didn't ever sleep together!"

Quinn, confused, glances from Puck's guilty and playful face to Santana's embarrassed and enraged one.

"You know we used to have sex," Puck says. Santana rolls her eyes dramatically.

"It was never memorable."

"Wait." Quinn holds up a hand. "Why would you have yeast?" She questions. Puck sniggers and Santana drops her head.

"You really haven't seen the commercial," Puck says.

"I don't watch TV, I barely even have enough time to study a-"

Santana interrupts her. "Because you're always hooking up with somebody," she points an accusing finger at Quinn before turning her body (but leaving the finger on Quinn) to Puck, "and I don't want her to see the commercial."

Puck stands and motions for Quinn to do the same. Quinn glances at Santana and realizes that the look on her face is defeat mixed with embarrassment.

"Follow me." Puck says so Quinn follows him upstairs.

It's been years since Quinn has been in Puck's room and it hasn't changed at all really. It still stinks, it still has clothes on every surface, and there are still pornographic magazines and videos strewn all over the place.

And yet, no jacket. Turns out Santana was right.

Puck motions Quinn over to the computer and she goes, hearing Santana's whimper of a protest at the door. He presses play and her jaw drops when she sees Santana because in the video the girl does look like a middle aged mother of two. Maybe the trophy wife or soccer mom type.

When the video ends, Quinn turns to Santana who's staring at her feet, still standing in the doorway. "Santana… and where did this air?"

"It was aired nationally." The girl grumbles in response. She wants to laugh really badly, but she doesn't because of the look on Santana's face.

"That's really bad," Quinn chokes out. "Do people treat you differently?"

"Not as different as they did during the airing of my _first_ commercial," Santana says and she stomps out of the room.

**5:04 p.m.- Lima, Ohio**

The Cheerios are still practicing when she gets to the school. She knows because Cheerios practice ends at six (unless someone messes up the routine or pukes). Quinn doubts the rules have changed just because Sue is the principal now.

She's scheduled an appointment with Emma because the redhead knows basically _everything_ even though she says nothing. Quinn admires that about the doe-eyed woman and wishes she had that ability.

"Hi, Quinn. It's so nice to see you again." Emma is practically _glowing_ and Quinn can't help the bile in her throat when she thinks that all this glowing is because of Schue.

"Hey, Emma," Quinn greets. The woman looks a bit taken back by Quinn's use of her first name but, Quinn is no longer a student.

"How have you been?"

Quinn wants to roll her eyes because she's sure Emma doesn't really care how she's been and she doesn't care how Emma's been.

"Fine," Quinn responds. "But I'm here for a real reason. I don't just want to relive highschool." She's being rude, she knows, and Emma's face morphs from composed, to shocked, to nervous. "So you and Schue are trying for a baby?" Quinn asks.

"How- how do you know?"

"I _smell_ it," Quinn deadpans. She shakes her head to show she's changing the subject. "Finn died, you know."

"I- I know, Quinn. You're acting an awful lot like Santana."

"Is that a bad thing?" Quinn snatches her eyes from the pamphlets to Emma's, daring her to say something negative about Santana.

The woman shakes her head rapidly. "No, no. It isn't. But why are you here?"

"Well, Finn died." Quinn sighs.

"Yes, I know that!" Emma snaps. Quinn raises her eyebrows as Emma takes a deep breath. "I," she continues, "wish not to relive that just as you wish not to relive highschool."

"Then I'm sure you'd know why I'm here if I said I was here regarding Santana," Quinn stands. "And I know you know where Finn's-" Quinn cuts herself off because she is about to say all kinds of ungodly things.

Emma nods. "Oh, yes, the poor girl lost his jacket. All four years she was here, I tried to help her with her organizational skills. Especially after I saw her car." Emma continues rambling and Quinn just wonders how it is that Emma saw the inside of Santana's car. Of course, Quinn has seen Santana's car. She drove it here today (since Santana wouldn't drive her) and it is horribly messy. If she entered, Santana's car could be on one of those pack-rat shows or something… "But no. I don't know where it is."

Quinn finds this extremely hilarious that Emma is lying to her face. She's absolutely positive Emma has some kind of lead. "I used to be just like you, you know. I was helpful, nice, knew everything but kept everyone's secrets," Quinn pauses, leaning over Emma's desk. "But then, I grew up."

Emma's chair shoots backwards when she stands and it knocks down some of the pamphlets. "Get out of my office, Quinn."

"Why? I'm not done. Where the hell is Finn's jacket?" The room goes silent except for Emma's labored breathing. Emma shrugs,

"I don't know. I honestly don't."

Quinn, due to her psychology classes, knows from Emma's body language that the woman is lying her little ass off. "You better hope for the sake of you and your husband's jobs that you're telling me the truth."

"Out," Emma breathes.

"Gladly." Just as she's about to close the door behind her, she says, "And don't talk shit about Santana."

She ignores Will's waving as she stomps out of the school and hops into Santana's car. She sends a message to Santana.

_I understand why you didn't want to come here with me. –Q_

**6:41 p.m. Lima, Ohio**

Santana raps on the heavy wood door in front of her. It's been a while since she came to this looming house and even though it used to be hers, it intimidates the shit out of her. It's way less friendly and inviting looking than her _abuela's _house. The irony of it all is that the people in this house accepted her and help her while her _abuela_ kicked her out.

But Santana's whole life is one big ironic piece of crap and she's convinced that _Dios_ has a sense of humor.

The door opens and behind it is a woman, Evelyn, the caretaker of the house (and for the longest time, Santana's stand-in mother).

"_Hola, Santanita."_ Evelyn grins at her, grabs her shoulders, and embraces her. Evelyn is about the same age as Santana's mother, she just looks older from the laugh and frown lines that decorate her eyes and the gray hairs splattered all in her tightly pulled bun.

Santana melts into the hug. Evelyn smells like simpler times and happier days and _home._

"Hi, Ev." Santana mumbles into the woman's shirt.

Evelyn steps back and looks her up and down. "I was wondering when you'd come home."

Santana just smiles and moves out of the way so Evelyn can close the door behind her. Santana's eyes dance over the many pictures of her in her various stages of life until she hears heels clacking on the dark polished wood steps.

"Evelyn, ¿Quién es?"

Santana identifies the voice as her mother's. Evelyn then says something that translates to _our lost child who's no longer in college. She really must want to give both of her mothers a heart attack._

_Ay,_ Santana really has to get used to their "joking" again. They only joke that way around her (and she's sure it's because they used to have a little thing, but who is Santana to judge?).

"Santana!" Her mother's accent and voice soothes her in ways that nobody else's can. It melts like butter and coats her whole body with a warmth that she would describe as love. The clacking on the stairs quickens until Santana is face to face with her mother.

"Oh, _m'ija,_ look at you! Mírate!" She envelopes Santana in a tight hug that is the complete opposite from Evelyn's soft one. But Santana's mother is a fierce woman and everything she does is that way. _That's where you get it from, m'ija,_ Elisa Lopez is known to say. "You're too skinny." She declares. Santana shakes her head. She knew that remark was coming sooner than later. "Come eat."

Santana bites back the urge to ask, "¿Dónde está papa?" because she knows the answer already. "He's in surgery. Saving a life," or "he's fucking his slutty secretary. Creating a life."

As far as she knows, though, she doesn't have any little siblings. But then again, if she did, it wouldn't surprise her.

**10:37 p.m.- Lima, Ohio**

Quinn wiggles the toes on her left foot and leans over to watch Santana closely. "I'll never be able to do designs as well as you can." She rests her back on the back of the chair, closes her eyes, and exhales.

"Has anyone ever sucked your toes?"

She opens her eyes and finds Santana looking up at her. "No, Santana," she responds, teasing smirk on her lips. "Why?"

"Just wondering." Santana grins and turns her attention back to Quinn's feet.

"Have you?" She decides to play along with whatever game it is Santana is playing.

"Sucked someone's toes or ever had mine sucked?"

Quinn bites her bottom lip. "Had yours sucked," she clarifies.

"No, but you can suck them if you want to."

Quinn snorts. "No thanks. I'll take you up on your offer some other time." Her foot drops when Santana's hands move away from it.

"Quinn." Santana starts. Quinn makes a noise in the back of her throat, signaling for the girl to continue because there's a tone in her voice that she's never heard Santana use before. "Do I look middle aged?"

Quinn struggles not to laugh, remembering what Puck commented on the youtube video of Santana's commercial. "You look around…" Quinn cocks her head to the side and studies the top of Santana's head. "Maybe 24?"

Hot breath hits her toes when Santana huffs. She then looks up at Quinn.

"All done. You like?"

"Love," Quinn says, looking at the ceiling.

"You're not even looking at it!" Santana pouts. To appease Santana, Quinn bends over again.

"Love it," she repeats. "Thanks."

"I hope you have your stuff together. We're checking out tomorrow."

Quinn narrows her eyes. "But we've been here two nights. Where are we going to stay?" She doesn't like the teasing look Santana gives her one bit.

* * *

**Alexismiau1690- **_What _is_ wrong with Dani? And yeah, San's the big spoon in the friendship. She doesn't appreciate it, but I'm sure Quinn does._

**Silent12reader - **_Why _is_ Dani sick? Dantana does have potential and I love them and it will be revealed why she is sick later. Just keep in mind that there are reliable narrators and unreliable ones… also if your informant is crazy, your information will be too. Quinn is trying to look for the jacket alone, but Santana won't leave her alone! And it is more fun with both of them!_

**Shananigan- **_Thanks! Sometimes these characters are hard to write! And there could be a reason you think Dani has a bun in the oven… or it could be you have an overactive imagination. And you're right… Only time will tell._

**ErosEternalGlee- **_Did Dani cheat? Or did she just eat some bad sushi and hit her head in the shower? But if she is pregnant, that would be very fucked up and Santana's heart would definitely be shattered… again. Santana's family is tricky and messed up in all sorts of ways. I plan to gradually introduce everyone to all of their various problems. Yeah, Mr. S did steal the jacket. And this fic is about their relationship and how it gets stronger and eventually develops because of the jacket. Think of it this way: they're living together, dining together, share the same bathroom, have to get over each other's tiny habits and stuff just to coexist and not go insane. I think as they spend more time together, this will show a little more. It's only been two days and an impromptu visit to Yale so far! And woah, woah, woah. Slow down there! Are you reading my notes and chapter guidelines! How did you know that special people would make an appearance in this fic? I'm watching you…_

**To all my guest reviewers, thanks for taking the time to review! I love you all!**

**Reviews and favs really make my day!**


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